


Family Ties

by wintersjackson



Series: Urban Magic RWBY [4]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 04:00:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2908577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintersjackson/pseuds/wintersjackson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stuck once again in a party of old Schnee managers, Weiss once again finds herself the only magic-user in a room of people who would likely exile her for admitting it. Or so she originally thinks, at least…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family Ties

Everyone and their mother had enough Schnee products littered about to fill a small bathtub, regardless of position or status. There were rumours, of course, questions about the company’s political views, but in the end Schnee company had been a worldwide staple before the supernatural world had revealed itself two decades ago. No matter what views they may have been hiding, the massive influx of new consumers only pushed them to new heights, and it was generally accepted that Schnee was here to stay.

Weiss hadn’t really understood there was a supernatural world for most of her life. Every teacher and staff member was vetted, all communications were monitored. When she did find out that humans really weren’t all there was in the world, she was quietly assured that they were all that mattered.

She’d been curious, she’d maybe been a little doubtful, but with no-one to ask questions she was forced to accept it. Eventually, she started to look down on these people she’d never seen just because that was what she felt was expected of her.

Right up until her sixteenth birthday. Finding out she was supposedly a Shaman, a link between humans and spirits, and then having a particularly moody spirit dumped in her lap soon after. The cat spirit was rude, and mocking, and generally infuriating every moment Weiss was with her. But despite all that, Weiss’s heart soared at finally having a link to something outside her family. Someone she could ask questions, find out what the world was really like. Alas, Blake seemed to have no interest in telling her. It was a struggle to get her to impart knowledge she deemed relevant, but getting something she had no direct interest in out of her was near impossible. Even the sometimes-tutor Blake had directed her to, Yang, seemed to have little patience for the Heiress. For a woman supposedly descended from elemental fire Yang was far too broody and self-contained.

Nearly six months Weiss had been coming into her role as a Shaman now, and even if she was really getting the hang of the craft she’d been shown so far, she still felt she was no closer to the non-human world. Some spiritual link she was turning out to be.

She was knocked from her thoughts as someone roughly brushed past, and Weiss found herself jerked back to the present despite her strongest wishes. The person responsible didn’t even turn to check, and Weiss settled for glaring at their back as they moved across the hall.

She was currently leaning against a pillar in a great ballroom, still nursing the same glass she’d picked up half an hour ago and was fighting the urge to exchange for something much more alcoholic. The hall was filled wall to wall with Schnee men and women. Some family members, some important people in the company, most both. Klein Schnee, the family head before stepping down for her father, had reached seventy despite nature’s best efforts and everyone who was anyone in the company had been invited for the celebration.

Winter had disappeared almost as soon as they arrived, crushing Weiss’s idle hope that she might be able to rely on her sister for company. She could see her on the other side of the hall now, smiling and curtsying for a group of managers who were applauding politely. Weiss had to bury a stab of dislike for her younger sister, turning to observe the rest of the room before she ruined her mood for the rest of the evening.

Everything was the same-the Schnees not exactly being the most adventurous of groups. White suits, white dresses, dark suits, dark dresses. Everyone wearing the same smile, the same style, the same expression of polite interest.

Except she was pretty sure she could see a feline paw reaching up from below a tablecloth in the far corner, patting the general vicinity of a seafood platter on the table above. Now Weiss really had to bury that frown as she tried not to look like she was storming across the room and was just somehow particularly interested in partaking of fish at this time.

“What is your problem?” Weiss hissed through a smile, back to the table as she tried to see if anyone had taken notice. Luckily no-one appeared to be sparing her a glance, though she still gave one last furtive look over the crowd before ducking down and staring her familiar in its usual cattish grin.

“You accidentally locked me in your room and I got bored,” Blake purred, tail twitching with amusement behind her as she watched her Shaman. “So I thought I’d see how you were getting on. Care to pass me some of whatever smells so good upstairs?”

Weiss spluttered incoherently for a moment before straightening up, grabbing a handful of prawns, and crouching back down.

“I locked you in because you were meant to stay there!” She hissed. “I told you! If anyone here sees you, I’m dead, do you hear me?”

Blake seemed to ignore her for a few seconds, face full of seafood as she eagerly ate up the treat until Weiss angrily pulled her hand away.

“No-one in this room is looking further than their own egos,” Blake said mockingly, sitting back with an infuriating smile until Weiss grudgingly offered the hand once again.

“No-one here’s ever met a Fae before I’m willing to bet, save those sleeping with one on the side. For all their poise and supposed superiority, they’d notice a cheap necktie a generation before they noticed some of their precious…although admittedly high class seafood had gone missing.”

Weiss sighed, holding her head with her other hand and asking for the thousandth time just why the Spirits had considered her a suitable choice for this position in the first place.

“Although the one at your seven o’clock who’s been watching us for the last few minutes is warded up to the eyebrows. Only one to notice, only one with wards,” Blake mused. “Wonder if she’s interesting.”

Weiss jerked her head up with surprise and banged it against the table, uttering an angry squeak before glancing over her shoulder for the supposed woman.

“Your other seven,” Blake added helpfully, and Weiss instead checked the other shoulder in what she hoped was not a suspicious manner.

There she was, leaning back against a pillar and holding a near empty glass in a manner which suggested it had been that way for some time. Now that she was looking, the woman’s outfit danced dangerously close to not fitting the pre-eminent fashion. Black and white moved together across the ensemble as the woman lifted her glass in acknowledgement, bright eyes gleaming at Weiss from across the room.

Turning back to the table, Weiss tried to get her brain working again. She had to be Schnee, certainly, no manager who looked like that would be included on a guest list. However, no Schnee would dress like that, or sully themselves with magical protection. She chanced another quick look and the woman winked, clearly enjoying the show. Trying to bury the overpowering blush that triggered, Weiss swiftly retreated back under the tablecloth, only for Blake to mimic the motion.

After a few moments internal debate Weiss straightened up, quickly slipped the seafood dish under the table and cut a swift walk towards the woman. She neatly slipped a new drink off a waiter’s plate as one passed, and stopped beside the woman in an attempt at looking casual. The woman stayed silent for now, letting her make her own impression.

She was tall for a Schnee, graceful curves but with a hint of what could have been muscle under the sleeves, an unreadable face that could have been twenty or forty alike. In fact, Weiss thought she could feel her eyes slowly slipping off the woman, things out of sight or in the corner of her eye suddenly so shiny and distracting. Weiss wondered, if Blake had not pointed her out, if she would have noticed her at all.

“My Familiar’s pushy too, but that doesn’t mean I let them in a room with a hundred or so Nostalgics,” the woman said into the silence, and her tone fitted her appearance, a slight roughness disguising any obvious youth or age. Weiss tilted an eyebrow quizzically and the woman rolled her eyes, gesturing to the crowd.

“Nostalgics. Blanket term for the type of people who preferred the world the way it used to be. Without us.” She turned back to Weiss with an aside glance, tilting her glass in a welcome. “You can call me Gris. With whom do I share the pleasure?”

The back of Weiss’s neck prickled, Blake’s lessons pressing forward insistently. A mortal’s name, uttered from their own lips, was a weapon against them in the hands of a magical creature. ‘Gris’ had all the marks of a taken name, intended to protect oneself-which, Weiss realised, meant that this wasn’t a blackmail attempt- she was being tested for the same.

“The Schnee Heiress at your service,” She said carefully, watching for the reaction it would cause. “I’m sure if you’re here, you can figure it out from there.”

Gris raised a single eyebrow in response, and from a lifetime of time spent around the rich and eccentric Weiss had a feeling that was all the reaction she could expect.

“Wouldn’t have expected Weiss Schnee of all people to be born a witch,” she said finally. “Then again, wouldn’t expect the result of an affair to be the Schnee Heiress. No other way magic is getting into a family this…self-absorbed, after all.”

Weiss had to bite down a retort, keeping her voice even. ‘Familiar’ was a Witch term for the most part, identifying Gris’s apparent source of knowledge to her. Not that Weiss’s own source of magic was anywhere near common. Still, that Fae-like distracting glamour was most definitely a witchy sort of thing to do.

“I’m not a witch or a bastard,” she responded, voice clipped. “I’m…a shaman, I’m told it’s called. My mother did not have affairs anyway, she’s far too afraid of my father.”

For a second she thought she saw a glint of sadness in Gris’s eye before she responded.

“…That is true. A Shaman, then. I knew a new one had been chosen, but…well, I’m sure you’ll have an interesting life. So that spirit eating its way through the Seafood table, that’s your familiar, yes?”

Weiss sighed, not dignifying Blake’s behaviour with an acknowledgement.

“Yes, that would be her. Not by choice, I assure you.”

The chuckle from beside her caught her by surprise, as did the fond smile on Gris’s face when she glanced up to check.

“No-one chooses their familiar, Weiss. I threw Iris out of the house more times than I can count for stealing from the kitchen when I wasn’t looking. But now, I couldn’t imagine living without them. You grow together.” Weiss looked over at her familiar again, caught between doubt and understanding. Blake was many things, but it was hard to imagine ‘indispensable’ being one of them.

“C’mon, I could use some fresh air,” Gris spoke out suddenly, striding out from where she had been leaning against the wall and heading for the balcony. Weiss had to rush to keep up, expecting the woman to slow as she reached the more populated area, but somehow the crowd parted and shifted around Gris like water, leaving Weiss to catch up.

When she reached the glass doors, seeing the gentle stir of the trees in the garden just beyond, Gris was fiddling with the handle. There was the smallest spark of light and then the door swung open, and she shot Weiss a wolflike grin. For some reason that little trick ran a spark of uncertainty down her spine, but she shook it off. Probably another piece of minor witchery Gris had picked up.

“Mages like us have been using that trick for five hundred years, and Schnee corp still hasn’t adapted to fix it,” Gris chuckled, offering a hand. Weiss immediately took it, feeling the now-familiar tingle as she stepped over the threshold.

A familiar Black shape materialised out of the darkness as they moved away from the lamplight-at least, black save for the calamari hanging out of its mouth. Weiss had hoped her feline companion would follow, and leant to give her a few gentle strokes when she sauntered in range. She felt an irrational little surge of satisfaction when a quiet purr vibrated up her arm in response.

When she glanced up Gris was watching from her seat on the handrail, hands splayed and expression soft.

“What’s her name?”

“Blake. She’s called Blake.”

Gris nodded slightly, a faint smile upon her lips. “It’s nice to meet you, Blake. You have a very special human.”

“Not exactly by choice, all the same,” came the mumbled response, but it lacked the usual bite to it. A comfortable silence settled over the balcony for a few minutes, Weiss gently stroking her friend and Gris watching from above. Eventually the witch gave a gentle cough, nodding at the ballroom when Weiss looked up, and sure enough the room seemed a little emptier than they’d left it, and Winter was making a meandering path in their direction, clearly searching. Weiss felt a twinge of sadness as she realised the evening was coming to an end. She supposed the other woman would be leaving now. When she looked back Gris had stepped up onto the handrail, peering curiously over the edge into the darkness below.

“Can we exchange numbers or something?” Weiss blurted, coughing awkwardly as the other girl grinned back. “I mean, I never expected someone else like me within Schnee. I’d love to see you again.”

The laugh caught her off guard, the genuine amusement in it suddenly setting her nerves on edge. It was a pleasant, average laugh-but something in it made the animal in her want to run, to run and flee.

“Oh, Weiss. Like I’d pass up a chance to be involved in this story.” They met eyes and just for a moment the gold of firelight seemed to be reflected in those turquoise disks that at the same time told nothing and promised everything. “See you soon, Heiress.”

And like that she toppled backwards off the railing. Weiss gasped, rushing forward, but as she reached the edge a great shape shot past underneath. Gris, flying past on her back atop some white blur, great white wings spread out either side of her. Weiss could bring herself to do nothing but stare as the sight disappeared beyond the lamplight.

“What are you doing out here?” A familiar voice came from right behind her, and Weiss spun guiltily, coming face to face with her sister. Blake appeared to have disappeared, at least, and she let out a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding as Winter glared.

“Just felt like some fresh air,” Weiss supplied quickly.

Winter rolled her eyes, turning and motioning for Weiss to follow. “Well, come on. Father wants us for photos before Grandfather has to leave.”

Weiss did so wordlessly, a note of uncertainty creeping in as she followed silently along.

Gris had been the most interesting Schnee she’d ever met, and a witch, and beyond all that smooth beyond comparison.

But had she ever actually said she was a witch? Or even a Schnee?

Or even human?


End file.
